


23rd September, 2029

by TheArchaeologist



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Baby Cole, But he's not good with babies, Family, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank it's just a baby it's fine, Hank tries his best, Swearing, The nurses are just laughing at him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-10 00:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15279264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArchaeologist/pseuds/TheArchaeologist
Summary: It’s the 23rd September, 2029, and Hank Anderson is in hospital.





	23rd September, 2029

“He’s pink.”

Ok, so Hank wasn’t Shakespeare. Sue him.

The nurse makes a startled snorting sound, quickly trying to cover it up by clumsily clearing her throat.

“Yes, he is pink. But it’s a good sign.” She glances down at Cole, and then up to Hank. “Do you want to hold him?”

He…Probably should. Hank manages a somewhat squeaky, “Yeah, yeah ok.” 

Fuck, he sounds like he’s going through puberty again.

With practiced ease the nurse scoops up the newborn from the cot, holding him out to Hank as if it was all that simple. He blanks, and lifts his hands up dumbly as Cole is passed over, awkwardly shifting Cole’s weight so his head is supported by the crook of his elbow. The nurse smiles, resting a hand on his shoulder as Cole wiggles about from the exchange.

“I will leave you to it.”

“Yeah, yeah ok.” Hank echoes again, staring at the infant with wide eyes. As her heels click against the hospital floor, he finds himself calling after her, asking, “What if I-”

“I’ve never had a father drop one yet!” She cuts off with far too much glee, disappearing out the door. 

The room goes quiet, save for Cole’s fussing within his blanket. Hank blinks, watching tiny hands tighten and unclasp. Although hidden from sight, he can feel Cole’s legs moving about against his arm. The fussing turns to whimpers.

“Easy…” Hank’s a cop, not a nanny, and there was hardly a crash course in childcare at the academy. He bumps his legs about a bit in a poor attempt at rocking. “Easy kid, jeez you’ve barely been about a few hours and already you’re complaining…”

Cole continues to voice his concerns over the whole situation. A small part of Hank wants to join him.

Instead, he tries pacing a bit, peering out the window as he does. It’s September, and in Hank’s day that meant the beginning of the cooler months of the year. But Hank’s not a child anymore, and times have changed, so despite the shortening of days the summer heat is still lingering in the air. The discarded jacket on the chair is testimony to that.

Cole whimpers, the pacing doing little to soothe him, so Hank offers him a finger instead. That, apparently, is a far better solution to whatever the issue was. Within minutes Cole has calmed, settling down to wave his new possession about curiously.

“You’ve got some funny preferences there, kid.” Hank informs the newborn, not that said newborn particularly cares. “Don’t worry, we’ll soon fix that, just you wait.”

Cole makes some kind of humming sound, so Hank takes that as an agreement. He watches him for a moment, noting the way his whole hand can barely wrap around Hank’s little finger.

“Fuck, you’re small.”

Cole babbles, the noises turning sour once again as large blue eyes water.

“Easy, son, easy. You’ve got nothing to worry about, it’s alright.” Hank’s stiff bobbing becomes looser, less awkward and more natural. It’s all in the hips, apparently. “I’ve gotcha. It’s ok.”

And fuck, if Hank isn’t already prepared to die for this kid then he’s as human as those new walking machines.

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative title: Procrastinating writing an action scene in my multi-chapter fic by writing tooth-rotting fluff for a completely different fandom.


End file.
